


my baby, i got you

by roseandthorns28



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes' Potty Mouth, D/s undertones, Dom Bucky vibes, Dom Steve vibes, Established Relationship, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Sub Tony, Threesome - M/M/M, Tony is still CEO, a little evening delight in the office, soft smut, supersoldier sandwich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 19:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandthorns28/pseuds/roseandthorns28
Summary: Tony's had a long, stressful month in the office and his boyfriends know just what he needs to relax.





	my baby, i got you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loran_Arameri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loran_Arameri/gifts).



> Written for the Stuckony Server 300 Member Gift Exchange. 
> 
> My wonderful giftee wanted the following prompt: 
> 
>  
> 
> **Tony gets a visit from Bucky and Steve at the office. A supersoldier sandwich ensues.**
> 
>  
> 
> I hope I was able to suffice!

Tony sits at his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes are dry and throbbing from staring at multiple screens of audit reviews and expense reports and he can feel the beginning of a migraine develop between his brows. The end of the financial year is always such a pain in the ass. 

He wishes he could actually leave everything to Pepper, the way he often says he does, but even someone as competent as her can’t take his place completely; not if he wants to avoid another _Obie_ from happening. (When he went on stage and announced to the world media that he wanted oversight and responsibility well, he kind of dug his own grave with having to conform to those ideals).  

Every time this avalanche of paperwork comes around, he feels even more desperate to go through with his threats of resigning and making Pepper the CEO.

Scrubbing at his eyes behind the glasses he’s been forced to wear ever since he hit the big 4-Oh and words started swimming after a while, Tony heaves a sigh and pings for the general secretary that sits in front of his rarely visited SI HQ office (instead of the room for his Executive Assistant, Ms. Pepper Potts).

“Donna, could you please send in a coffee? You know how I like it. Thanks!”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark. Oh, I’ll be leaving in a few. I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Aw, how am I going to keep the riff-raff out without your stern glare?”

“Use that robot butler of yours, Mr. Stark. I have a toothache that’s not going to fix itself.”

Tony chuckles tiredly, “Sure thing, Donna. Take care.”

“Have a nice evening, Mr. Stark,” Donna replies and if Tony had some more wherewithal he’d be a little worried about the knowing note in her voice but he immediately dives back into the budget predictions from R&D. One of the most hated aspects of his job is to say no to certain projects because _budget_ and _feasibility_ despite him being a flagbearer for scientific inquiry and the freedom of experimentation.

After what feels like an hour, there’s a knock on his door and he digs himself out of the numbers to wave distractedly at his desk. “Just leave it here, Donna, thanks. Take tomorrow off if that tooth is bothering you too much. Oh and don’t bother showing your face if you don’t have Marc take videos of you doped up on laughing gas! You know the rule!” He says absently, expanding a graph and squinting at it.

“Sorry, not Donna, but if you’re in the market for a leggy blond I might do in a pinch.”

Tony reels back in surprise, looking up jerkily at the owner of the smooth, decidedly male voice coming from right beside him.  Blue eyes shine in mirth as a careful hand puts the steaming mug of something sweet and cinnamony down on the table, his face close enough to kiss as the man bends down.

“Uh - security breach!” Tony exclaims before startling when two hands land on his shoulders from behind his ergonomic chair, one heavier and somewhat metallic than the other.

“That sweet secretary of yours called in our services. Said you’d been working too hard these days. Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be so stressed, doll,” the honey-smooth voice drawls in his ear, thumbs digging into one of the many knots in his tense shoulders and Tony can’t help but moan, sagging back in his chair.

“There we go,” the voice whispers, leaning closer and he can feel the brush of long hair against his neck and cheek as he melts into those capable hands working through the tense and sore muscles in his shoulders.

“Oh shit, oh… yeah. Right there.”

He feels a soft touch along his cheek, a thumb rubbing at the edge of his beard, and his head unconsciously turns to chase the touch, only to have the hand disappear. He feels his glasses being removed by careful fingers. A broad hand cups the back of his head, steadying it as something hard and smooth touches the bottom of his lip. “Open up, sweetheart,” the smooth voice croons and his eyes flutter open to see the blond holding the mug in front of his mouth and now that he’s paying attention, the heady scent of whatever amazing coffee concoction is in the mug is mouth-wateringly close.

The way the hands on his shoulders are working out the knots in his neck and shoulders is sending blood rushing to his head, and he mindlessly takes a long gulp of the drink, presented at the perfect temperature. The taste of spicy cinnamon, coffee, and dark chocolate bursts on his tongue and he moans, swallowing it down with a sigh.

“Damn, look at him, so sweet and malleable for us. He seems halfway down already and we haven’t even properly touched him,” The voice behind him chuckles and something in Tony protests against the assessment but it’s a mild one, easily let go, focusing more on drinking deeply, feeling it warm his chest. The hand at the back of his head moves to his hair to scratch lightly at his scalp and he feels goosebumps start to raise on his arms.

“Who knew the great Tony Stark could be brought to heel with a shoulder rub and a hot cocoa.”

The words barely register but a horrible thought crosses his mind and he sits up in alarm, pushing away from the tempting hands and slapping the one holding the mug away.

“Was there no real coffee in that? Wait, did you give me decaf?!” Tony asks, horrified. “Steven Grant Rogers, you tricked me!”

Steve shrugs, tilting the mug to show him the last dregs of the traitorous drink clinging to the bottom of the mug. “Didn’t see you complaining.”

“You had to go an’ open your big mouth, didn’t you Stevie? He’s all tense again, made me undo all my work,” Bucky complains, placing his hands on Tony’s shoulder.

The latter turns over with a glare, “You were in cahoots with him, don’t think you’re forgiven. What are you even doing he – stop it, don’t distract me with your magic fingers!” Tony protests, pushing away in his rolly chair, away from the both of them.

“S’all thanks to you. The left one has even more dexterity than the real one. My mechanic’s a genius,” Bucky says, holding up his bionic hand and wiggling his fingers with a grin.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Barnes. No, seriously, what are you two doing here tricking poor CEOs into consuming beverages made of lies?”

“Poor CEO… isn’t that an oxymoron?” Steve jokes before capitulating at Tony’s sharp look. “Like Buck said, you’ve been stressing out way too much. Thought we’d come and help you relax somewhat,” he explains, slowly walking closer. “You’re barely home nights and if you are, you sleep for four hours, tops. I - we missed you.”

Oh no, he’s got his puppy eyes out now, looking at Tony with wide blue eyes and drawn in shoulders and god, Tony is so, so weak.

He pushes up from his chair and crosses the distance between them, placing a hand on Steve’s nape and pulling his boyfriend down into a kiss. Instantly, Steve’s strong arms wrap around his back, pulling him close and Tony has to go up on his tiptoes, holding onto Steve’s neck and shoulders.

He feels the firm presence of Bucky at his back, his hands on Tony's waist, and his nose nuzzling at his hairline. Just as Steve nips at his bottom lip, causing him to moan, Bucky tugs at him whispering in his ear, “Give me some sugar, sugar.”

Tony lets that cheesy line go because not only is he too tired to start a snarkfest with Bucky but also he hasn't had the time to be with his boys for longer than a few pecks and quick hugs and he wants to make the most of it. Plus, his mouth is quickly occupied by Bucky's hot, wet kisses and he unwraps an arm from around Steve's shoulders to reach back and bury his fingers in Bucky's hair.

Steve is pressing small kisses along the side of his neck, pulled taut with the strain of keeping his head turned to kiss Bucky. He can actually feel the tension leaving his body, the miasma of thoughts and anxiety swirling in his head calming at being held so close and lovingly between them. He knows that if he were to let go and stop holding himself up, they'd take his weight completely and instantly.

Bucky pulls away from the kiss with a slick sound and Tony blinks up hazily at him to find him smiling down softly with pink kiss bruised lips.

“Why'd you stop kissing me, cowboy?”

“Gonna stiffen up your neck like that, doll. We should move this to the couch.”

Tony's noise of protest is silenced as Steve turns his head by the chin to press a kiss to his forehead. “Let us take care of you, sweetheart.”

Steve's voice is soft but holds a thread of command. Bucky takes the opportunity to nibble teasingly at his ear, and in the face of the combined forces of Steve and Bucky, Tony is weak-kneed and helpless to resist.

He nods his consent and is led to the couch by his two boyfriends, almost floating to the giant leather piece of furniture that serves as his nap spot during times like these. It’s a little surreal to have his boyfriends here in this office; he’s more used to their presence permeating every pore of his personal workshop and of course, his bed.

Not that he’s complaining, especially since Bucky takes a seat and tugs Tony into his lap, grinning cheekily at him. “Hey, there.”

“Hey, soldier,” Tony replies in amusement, shifting a little to distribute his weight more evenly over Bucky’s thick, thick thighs.

Steve moves to kneel by their feet and pulls one of Tony’s legs into his lap, slowly working off his dress shoe. “Would you kill me if I said you look phenomenal on your knees?” Tony can’t help but quip, reaching forward to card his fingers through Steve’s golden hair. 

The man looks up with a mischievous little grin as he slowly, teasingly pulls off Tony’s sock, his thumbs caressing his ankle. “We both know which one of us enjoys _being_ there more. Won’t stop you appreciating though.”

He feels Bucky restart his amazing shoulder rub, this time kneading his biceps, inching slowly down towards his elbows. “Oh shit- ow, ow,” Tony mumbles as he presses at a particular point causing tingling sensation to travel down his arms and a release of tension he didn’t know he was carrying. Meanwhile, Steve had bared both his feet and slowly begins massaging his feet, working out the tension with his thumbs, rubbing along the arch of his feet.

Tony is boneless and helpless in the face of this combined assault, letting out a long, drawn out groan. “This is - oh wow, a guy can get used to this. You two spoil me way too much,” He breathes, looking at Steve with half-lidded eyes as he relaxes back against Bucky’s chest.

“That’s the plan, doll. To spoil ya rotten,” Bucky whispers in his ear, his arms coming around Tony’s waist and chest.

“I appr- holy shit!” Tony exclaims as all of a sudden he is maneuvered onto the couch lengthwise so that he’s leaning completely against Bucky’s chest, his hips cradled by Bucky’s thighs, feet held neatly by Steve who takes a seat right across from them.

God, sometimes he really hates how these two gang up against him.

“No you don’t,” Steve teases, and shit, he said that out loud. Before he can reply, he feels Bucky’s left hand run down his abdomen, before the shiny, silver hand cups him through his trousers and fuck, he didn’t even know he was hard.

“Is that for us, sweet thing?” Bucky drawls, squeezing the tent in his pants, causing Tony to rolls his hips up wantonly.

“Shit- yeah, yeah, for you, both of you, you know it’s all for you.”

Steve looks at him with such a rapturous expression and he bends down to kiss the tops of his feet, left then right, as if he were kissing a princess’ knuckles. It almost brings a tear to Tony’s eye.

“Stevie, you wanna or should I?” Bucky breaks through, rubbing his thumb over where the head of his cock lies, the friction causing Tony to moan.

“I got this,” Steve answers, sitting up and running his broad palms up Tony’s legs, pausing to knead his thighs, pushing them open a bit more. Tony adjusts accordingly, bending his knees and draping his legs over Bucky’s giving Steve enough space to work with now that he can guess at the blond’s destination. Bucky’s hands retreat as Steve advances, digging his thumbs into the crease between his thighs and his hips. He feels hands on his shirt, tugging it out of the waistband (easier now as Steve is undoing his pants), and slowly unbuttoning it. One of Tony’s hands falls onto Steve’s head, as the blond nuzzles at his underwear covered crotch, mouthing softly at the wet spot formed on the front of his briefs. His other hand grips Bucky’s thigh, nails digging in as his boyfriend starts kissing and nibbling along his neck even as he pulls his $400 dress shirt off and throws it to the side callously.

“You taste so sweet, gorgeous, could just eat you up,” Steve says, punctuating his statement with a teasing graze of his teeth over the cloth. Tony's hips jerk at that and he emits a startled groan. “You like that?” He teases, knowing full well Tony goes absolutely mad for it.

“Thinkin’ he does. C’mon, doll, let me get this off’a you,” Bucky adds, pulling back a little so he can strip him off his undershirt, baring his chest.

His hands soon come back to rove across Tony’s chest greedily, running along his abdomen, caressing the sensitive edges of the reactor scars, thumbing his nipples (pebbled by a combination of the chilliness of the room and the arousal that’s burning through his veins).

Steve, because apparently both his boyfriends have decided not to give him even a second of breathing space, pulls down his briefs in the interim, takes ahold of his cock and starts suckling on the head, his bright blue gaze fixed on Tony.

Tony has to bite his lip, thwarting the loud cry that would have escaped otherwise, and his fingers tighten in Steve’s hair. Steve starts moving his mouth down Tony’s cock, Bucky starts kissing his neck and Tony gives up, cedes control, lets them play him like a fiddle.  

His body is a livewire of heightened sensation, every touch, every stimulus lighting up his nerve endings with pleasure. His eyes are closed, his mouth open and panting, and he gives himself over to his two lovers completely and irrevocably.

When Bucky starts whispering dirty, sweet-nothings in his ear about how beautiful he looks, how much they love him, how honoured they are to have his trust, to have his submission like this, how he is wonderful and generous and lovely and perfect and _theirs…_ well, Tony can’t do much but reach back with his free hand to hook it around Bucky’s neck, unable and unwilling to actually fight him (even internally) on the praise. In this liminal space between them, the precious realm where only _SteveTonyBucky_ exist, there’s no place for deflections, deceptions, denials. All he can do is turn his head and mouth lazily at Bucky’s stubbled jaw, in acknowledgement and gratitude. And because he wants his mouth on something.

Bucky obliges by turning his head and kissing Tony deeply, his tongue sinuous and devious, stealing all coherence from him as Steve does the same by tonguing his slit. God, the mouths on them…

Tony’s making all kinds of noises now, whimpers, whines, gasps, and he couldn’t care less. He’d give away his entire fortune to anyone who could keep their cool when disarmed so thoroughly by Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

Steve must’ve gotten a little jealous of the attention he was bestowing Bucky because suddenly the blond takes him all the way down to the root and it’s only Bucky’s metal arm around his waist that prevents Tony from bucking (heh!) wildly and choking Steve.

“Easy, sugar. That’s not how you thank someone who’s sucking ya off,” Bucky reprimands in his ear, his voice husky and stern. Through half-lidded eyes Tony can see Steve pull up to the tip of his cock and somehow manage to smirk, eyes full of mischief. They all know who is actually at fault here, blond haired little shit, but Tony is in the zone and he pants out a breathless, “Sorry, sir, thank you, sir.”

“Good boy,” Steve praises, the words causing a shiver to run up Tony’s spine. As he speaks, his breath tickles the head of Tony’s cock before he’s sliding his hot, wet, perfect mouth down it once more, rolling his spit-slick balls in his other hand. This time Bucky uses his metal arm as a deterrent, holding Tony in place as Steve goes to town on his cock. He can’t even twitch.

There’s some shuffling behind him before he feels Bucky shift, causing the tip of his dick to slide along his lower back, leaving behind a trail of wetness. A hand brushes along his cheek, thumb swiping over his lips and Tony needs no instruction to close his mouth around it and suck.

“Should’a given you something for your mouth too. How did we forget about your damn oral fixation?” Bucky chuckles and his cock jostles with the movement, teasing Tony in the worst of ways. “S’okay, you can help me out. Get my hand nice an’ wet, doll,” he says, sliding out his thumb and holding his palm in front of Tony.

It’s just far enough for him to not be able to reach without moving. He strains his neck, giving the rough, gun-calloused palm broad licks, pausing to teasingly nip at the pads of Bucky’s fingers and suck lightly at the meat of his palm.

“That’s enough,” Bucky says before the hand disappears behind Tony and he hears the slick sound of Bucky stroking himself followed by a pleasured hum. He feels a little robbed that he can’t see, that all he gets of Bucky jerking himself off is the occasional bump of his knuckles against Tony’s back.

“So gorgeous, could make a fella come just by the noises you make,” He whispers, “Ain’t that right, Stevie?”

It’s only when Tony opens his eyes to see Steve bob his head in a nod that he notices him humping the couch cushion and damn, that’s enough to drive him to the edge, the thought that both his boys are finding their pleasure in _his_ pleasure; that _he_ did that.

He groans out loud, Bucky pants out, “yeah, you like that?” and Steve sucks him down again and things ramp up from there, all three of them chasing their pleasure, pushing each other closer to the edge, the sights, the sounds, the sensations, feeding off of each other.

It doesn’t take long after that for Tony to actually come, the pleasure building and building, until his muscles lock up and he’s coming down Steve’s throat, turning his head to bite down on his bicep, letting out a garbled curse wrapped around Bucky and Steve’s names, feeling every nerve in his body come alive, singing with euphoria.

He can feel the vibrations of Bucky’s deep groan rumbling in his chest and the streaks of hot come marking his back and the last thing he sees is Steve pulling off his cock, his mouth red and glistening with spit and come, licking his lips before Tony gives up the ghost and let’s his consciousness float away.

He feels movement but is too high and dopey to care until there’s the slick sound of kissing above his head, soft groans and his eyes flutter open, unwilling to miss the spectacle that is Steve and Bucky making out. Steve is stretched over him, holding himself up on his hands (planking, even now, the peak of physical perfection), kissing Bucky over his head while the brunet strokes him leisurely with his left hand.

Tony has no idea when they changed position or when Steve got his pants undone but all he knows is that Steve’s shirt has ridden up to an obscene amount and his glorious chest is _right there_ and he makes the effort of lifting his head and licking a long stripe along Steve’s abs. Tony is never tired enough to resist the temptation of licking his abs.

From there it’s only a matter of adjusting his spatial orientation and sucking on Steve’s nipple through his shirt, _Thank Underarmour_ for blessing them with tight, skin hugging clothing _._ Steve moans and jerks, but Tony persists. He knows how sensitive Steve can get there and he’s going to take full advantage of that fact, especially since he’s not been much help in getting his wonderful lovers off this evening.

A few more strokes and Tony biting down on Steve’s nipple is enough for him to spill with a low moan, a sound that makes Tony’s limp cock twitch once valiantly. The groan is echoed by Bucky following a series of curses, praise falling so easily from his lips (especially after all he’s been through) that it never fails to throw Tony.

When Steve comes he paints Tony’s chest with his release, spilling over onto Bucky’s metallic fingers and Tony can’t even be mad about the subsequent clean up because he can feel Bucky’s seed drying on his lower back and now Steve’s on his front, going up to the reactor, both blatantly marking Tony as _theirs_.

It’s hotter than a damn supernova.

Bucky milks the last of Steve’s orgasm and the blond shudders and collapses onto them, still mindful of his weight and position, careful to avoid Tony’s chest and arc reactor. Bucky chuckles, leaning back against the arm and wipes his come covered hand on Tony’s Italian leather sofa, before wrapping an arm around Tony’s back, and he sees him do the same for Steve. Post-orgasm Steve is a damn octopus, not that Tony is complaining. What can he say, sometimes he might love the post-coital, sweaty cuddle-sesh-slash-aftercare more than whatever filthy things they get up to. Not that he’s ever gonna say that to them, ever. They might just take it as a challenge. On the other hand… well, that’s a thought for another day.

Now, however, Tony's not so inclined to spend hours sprawled out like this. The leather couch is definitely not large enough to hold three grown - well, two _over_ grown and one average sized, thank you very much - men, especially not in the weird Jenga-like manner they’re currently lying in. Not to mention, things are getting crusty and sweaty.

Still, before they have to get up and set themselves to rights (the couch is beyond help and unfortunately will need replacing), they take a moment to just breathe, the three of them, tangled up on the couch, leaning on each other, uncertain of where one begins and one ends.

“We’re so doing that again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come join us at the [Stuckony Server](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) for all things Steve, Bucky, and Tony!


End file.
